


Just Want One More Moment With You

by Cinnabunni



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Feels, Lysandre's dead :(, M/M, Post-Canon, Serena wants sycamore to be happy, Wine, depressed sycamore, is it a happy ending? idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnabunni/pseuds/Cinnabunni
Summary: Lysandre was gone, and Serena wanted to see how Sycamore was taking the news.He was not handling the news very well, to say the least.
Relationships: Calme | Calem & Platane-hakase | Professor Augustine Sycamore & Serena, Fleur-de-lis | Lysandre/Platane-hakase | Professor Augustine Sycamore, Fleur-de-lis | Lysandre/Platane-hakase | Professor Augustine Sycamore (implied)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Just Want One More Moment With You

**Author's Note:**

> Just a tiny warning for alcohol abuse!

After everything that happened with Team Fare, Lysandre, and just everything, Serena needed a break. She knew that Professor Sycamore needed one, too; she knew that Sycamore was close to Lysandre, and after hearing the news that he was gone...she knew that Sycamore needed someone and a break from work.

When she arrived at his home, she gave a small knock. Serena really hoped that he was home, and not at the  pokémon lab. But when she heard a distant “come in”, she was happy to see that he was at least at home, not overworking himself like she thought he would. That was at least a start . 

She found Sycamore sitting on his couch, holding a glass of red wine, with the half-empty wine bottle on the coffee table near him. “Hello, professor,” she slowly greeted, walking over. He perked up, and gave a smile. The room, Sycamore included, reeked of alcohol; there were many empty wine bottles that littered the table and floor.

“Ah,  _ Bonsoir,  _ Serena!” he greeted, words drunkenly slurred, as he took a sip of his wine.

“Hi, professor. I just came by to check up on you,” she said, “just wanted to see if you were doing alright.”

“Yes, I’m fine ‘Rena,” he hiccuped, and gestured to his glass of wine in hand, “the wine has been keeping me company.”

“Yeah, I can see that…” she said, watching as Sycamore drank the rest of the red wine from the glass, “maybe you should stop for the night, and head to bed. So we can talk tomorrow in the morning.”

Sycamore scoffed, as he poured the rest of the wine from the bottle into his glass, and left the empty bottle with the rest of them. “I’m fine right here, sulking with my wine thank you very much.” Serena sighed as she watched him take a long sip of the red wine. She really should’ve called Calem over.

“Professor, I really think you should rest. I don’t think that this is the way to deal with loss. I know that you and Lysandre were close friends-”

“We weren’t just  _ close friends,”  _ Sycamore snapped. His demeanor immediately softened. “He was everything to me,” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

Serena walked over, and hoisted him up by his arm, Sycamore immediately leaning onto her shoulder. She cringed as the bottle fell and hit against the hard floor, and was happy that the wine glass landed on the couch. She walked him to his bed, as he continued to talk. “I miss him, I miss him so much,” he said, hiccuping. Tears were freely flowing, as he sobbed into Serena’s shoulder. “I want to see him again. Just for one moment.  _ Mon amour me manque. Je n'ai même pas dit au revoir.” _ When she finally brought him to the bed, Sycamore immediately curled into a position, arms close to his chest, legs brought up close. Serena used his lab coat as a makeshift blanket for him, laying it on top of him. “I never said goodbye. Never said what I wanted to. I miss him so much,” he said. “There were so many things I wanted to tell him...and now I never will.”

“Professor, I think you should sleep now. We can talk in the morning, okay?” Sycamore continued to mumble things to himself, still crying. Sighing, Serena left the room. She decided that she should probably clean up the room. She put away the dirtied glass, cleaned and recycled the empty wine bottles. She got a cup of water, and grabbed an aspirin, reentered the room, and placed it on the bedside table. She was happy to see that Sycamore was finally seeping (Serena was upset that she couldn’t find any extra blankets though, so he would have to use his coat for the night).

She sighed when she looked over him again. His clothes reeked horribly of alcohol, she’ll have to remember to remind him to wash the clothes. His hair was messy and tangled, as if he didn’t brush it in days. His original deep blue dress shirt had permanent wine stains on it, and he had dark bags under his eyes; Serena wasn’t sure when the last time Sycamore got proper sleep was. Serena, after double-checking everything, turned off the light behind her, and left for home.

She would have to bring Calem with her in the morning.

~~~   
  


Sycamore woke up with his head killing him. He wanted to say that he was used to this by now, he was waking up with hangovers almost every morning, but he still hit him like a train every morning.

Groaning and blocking the sun out of his eyes (he needed to invest in buying better curtains), he noticed a glass of water and an aspirin on the bedside table. He quickly swallowed it and promptly drank the water. He sat on the bed for a few moments, replaying the night in his head. It was a little foggy to him, but he can remember a few things. Arceus, he felt so bad that Serena had to see him like that. 

He perked up to the smell of bacon cooking.

At first, Sycamore thought that he was back to when everything was fine. Back when Lysandre would wake up before he did, and so he would wake up to the smell of bacon cooking for breakfast. Back when Lysandre was fine and still there with him, when he would make breakfast and coffee for him. 

Getting up, he quickly walked down the hallway, not bothering to change out of the clothes he slept in. As he headed for the kitchen, he secretly hoped that the past few nights were just dreams; that they never existed, and Lysandre was still here. So he could give him a hug and never let go and tell him how much he loved him. Entering the room, he looked over to where the stove was.

His dreams were crushed when he saw that it was Calem cooking the bacon.

“Oh, good morning, professor,” Serena greeted, and gestured to the dining table, “we made you some breakfast. The bacon’s for Calem.”

“Yeah, we searched up what types of breakfasts are best for hangovers, so I hope this helps,” Calem added, moving the now cooked bacon onto a plate. As Sycamore sat down, he examined the plate of food in front of him. Accompanied with a tall glass of water, there was a small omelette, with a piece of toast next to it. The toast had a fried egg on top of it, with a few pieces of fruit on the side. 

“So, there are a few things we need to talk about,” Serena started, sitting down across from his with a bowl of oatmeal, “first and foremost; the alcohol. We locked your wine cabinet, so you can’t get into it. Calem is the one who has the key.”

“So you two expect me to  _ not _ have wine, ever? What about when I want to enjoy a moderate amount of it during dinner?”

“Well, this isn’t a well thought out plan,” Calem said, chewing on a piece of the bacon, “but this will end well. Hopefully. We just want you to  _ not  _ grieve by drowning yourself in wine, and use alcohol as a way of escape. You need to take time and think, to properly grieve, and we’re here to help you.”   
  
Serena gave a kind smile. “We just want to help. We know how much Lysandre meant to you, and we wanna help you!”   
  
“Yeah, you can’t just spend your time drunk in your house all day.”

Sycamore stared at the two kids, and gave a smile, tears forming in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, tears threatening to fall,  _ “Merci beaucoup.”  _ He looked back down at his food, and continued to eat. 

He hoped that Lysandre was proud of him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic with Sycamore, so I hope I did well. Don't worry, I plan on posting fluff soon, so you won't just have angst :)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! Kudos and comments are appreciated. Thank you!


End file.
